Dead and Gone

by Tina Glasneck

His eyes narrowed, and he glanced sharply at her, as if trying to decide exactly what she had meant by the remark.

  “Only the good-looking ones.”

  Jill let the quip pass without comment as she peered into the darkness ahead. The place she had scoped out was not much farther now. She could feel her pulse build momentum as they drew closer.

  They reached the junction of Martin Luther King Jr. Drive and Middle Drive East. This was exactly where Jill wanted to be, and she led the way off of the main path into a dark little nook called Shakespeare’s Garden. What better place for a romantic rendezvous? Joel’s pace slowed. He stopped and turned toward Jill. Irritation flashed in his dark eyes.

  “Look, not that this isn’t fun, but we don’t have time for a nature walk. We’ve got ten minutes to make it to the restaurant.” He tried to reassert control.

  “Look,” she said, mimicking him, “you’re not going to enjoy what I have in store for you if you don’t try to relax a little. You’re not afraid to take a few risks, are you?” Jill brushed past him, taking care to make contact and heighten his interest. It was more than just playful touching when she pressed herself against him. “Besides, it’s faster to go this way.”

  “Are you sure? It’s dark, and I don’t want to get turned around.”

  “I know what I’m doing. You’ll see,” she purred in his ear as she slipped past. The traffic noise from the city streets subsided, and an eerie quiet settled between them. After a moment, she turned to glance back at him. “You are coming, aren’t you?”

  “Not yet,” he muttered under his breath, and she chuckled at the joke. He affected a more relaxed air. Jill could tell it was an act, but at least the asshole was trying.

  Jill led the way down the curvy path and paused outside the wrought-iron entrance to Shakespeare’s Garden, waiting for him to catch up. The darkness closed in on them. Jill could hear the sound of their footfalls on the cobblestone path. They passed underneath a dense canopy of trees. The branches wove together, appearing like black lace against a charcoal sky. She slowed as she came to the stone sundial in the center of the path and turned to face Joel.

  Without preamble he pulled her against him, his mouth descended quickly, and he kissed her hard. She froze for a second, instinctively wanting to shove him back. But she was playing a role, and Lilith gave herself up to the moment. Her hands slid up the thick fabric of his trench coat and knotted around his butter-soft scarf.

  At last he raised his head, eyes barely visible in the dim light. Without a word, he pushed her back through the darkness, across the uneven lawn, until she was pinned against the trunk of a huge redwood tree. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth against her throat. His hand snaked through her layers of clothing and unceremoniously mashed her breast.

  Her breath caught and her head reeled. A wave of anger washed over her. Presumptuous bastard. This was her dance, and she was going to lead. She needed to get control of the situation. Fast. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she eased him back to give herself some breathing room.

  “Why the rush? My mama always said to beware of a man in a hurry. We have all night.”

  Jill could see a muscle twitch in Joel’s clenched jaw. He was a man who liked being in control, which made the situation more dangerous. More fun, she amended. She felt the rush of anticipation sizzle along her nerve endings. But now it was time to bring the final act to a close.

  “Tell me, Joel, do you like to play games?” Easing forward, Jill nibbled on his ear, her hand dropping below his belt line until she found what she was looking for. Touching him aroused all kinds of emotions in her: contempt, loathing. Pushing those feelings aside, she focused on her goal and watched Joel’s head tip back. His eyes closed; his lips parted. She had his full attention now.

  Oh yes, he liked playing games all right. Joel Goodsen. Risky business. Sex with strangers. She would bet money that he not only liked to play games, he liked to win.

  “What exactly did you have in mind?” His breathing was ragged, and Jill pulled back. For the first time all night, a playful smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

  “How about a little hide and seek? That is, if you’re not scared of the dark. Trust me, I’ll make it worth your while.”

  The challenge was meant to be a not-so-subtle swipe at his masculinity. With a thin-lipped smile he took the bait. And while Joel tied the cashmere scarf around his eyes, Jill pulled out the gun.

  “Ready or not, here I come.”

  45

  Alex had to admit that despite his throbbing arm, he felt pretty damned good. After months of frustration, Jerry Honeywell was finally behind bars. He delivered the news of Honeywell’s arrest to Natalie’s parents in person, the last stop on his way back to the station.

  The decision to leave Abby a voicemail had raised his partner’s eyebrows, but Alex chose not to explain. The renewed attraction he felt for Abby was complicated, and fueling it by going to see her on such an emotionally charged topic was like running around with a loaded gun in your hand. Stupid.

  The unauthorized trip to Yakima was even worth the serious reprimand they had both received from Captain Lewis. The mood in the cybercrimes unit was subdued; the entire staff was walking around on eggshells. Kris Thompson had spent the last few days avoiding Alex altogether, and that was fine by him. With his arm in a sling, he was cheerfully clearing out some of the less critical cases from his backlog.

  Washing two Advil down with his cold coffee, Alex picked up the phone and dialed a familiar San Francisco number.

  Luka Petrovich picked up on the third ring, the tone of his voice terse, as if immersed in other matters and resenting the intrusion.

  “I’ve got good news for you.”

  “Alex?”

  “You got it, amigo.”

  “I could use some good news.” Amid the lyrical Russian accent, Alex could hear the smile in Luka’s voice and pictured him reclining back in his chair.

  “We got Honeywell.”

  “Great news. I want all the details.”

  Alex spent a few minutes bringing Luka up to speed on their trip to Yakima, brushing off any concerns about the gunshot wound to his arm.

  “Given half the chance, I’m sure that Stone would have shot you himself, not to mention me.” Luka’s hearty laugh filled the phone, and Alex could well imagine ATF Agent Russell Stone’s feelings on the matter.

  “Well, he’s not the only one. Captain Lewis is not my biggest fan these days, either. But sometimes you’ve got to do what you think is right, even when it bends the rules a little.”

  “Ain’t that the truth!”

  They both laughed. As the sound died away, Luka grew serious.

  “Did you hear about Kayla Miller?”

  Alex’s gut instinctively ratcheted tighter.

  “No.”

  “What was left of her body was found by a couple of backcountry skiers on Mt. Shasta.”

  Alex groaned softly and rubbed his forehead where the beginning of a headache was taking shape.

  “What do you mean, ‘what was left’?”

  “Wolves had gotten to it. They found a few pieces of her in the snow. It’s unlikely we’ll ever know what happened to her.”

  “Shit,” Alex said. He was sure Honeywell was responsible for Kayla’s disappearance, and now they wouldn’t get a chance to prove it. Justice for Natalie would have to serve for Kayla as well. He let out a long, hissing sigh. “So, what have you been working on?”

  “’Tis the season to be jolly. I don’t know why the murder rate spikes during the holiday season, but we’ve been hammered lately.”

  “No kidding.”

  “You know, I’m working on a case that reminded me of you.”

  “Should I be flattered?” Alex asked with a half smile as he directed his gaze out the window at the drizzling rain. “Do tell.”

  “I’ve got two dead bodies. Both crime scenes feel like a blind date gone wrong. And I’ve got no clear ties between the victims.�
�

  “You’ve checked escort services?”

  “No luck there. Also, their financial records look clean. No unusual transactions.”

  “What about local working girls?”

  “Possible, but it’s kind of coincidental that both victims were from out of town. Local girls would mean local johns and local victims.”

  “Interesting. What about an online dating scenario? Your victims could have been trolling any one of dozens of dating sites.”

  “That’s an angle I’m looking into, but our computer forensics guys have a backlog of cases. I was wishing I had someone like you to help. Mine is at the back of the queue.”

  “If you want me to take a quick look, I can do that. Have your team upload the disk images, and I’ll see what I can find.”

  “That would be great.”

  “Sure. Have your techs talk to mine and we’ll get the ball rolling.

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate the help.

  “Sure thing.”

  It took a couple hours and a couple of phone calls from Kris to get the disk images of the victims’ computer hard drives uploaded. It took even less time for Alex to verify that both men belonged to a common online dating site. One in particular, Hook Up, specialized in married people looking for extracurricular affairs.

  A slow crawl through the victims’ hard drives revealed that both men had shared some connections: three women, all of whom had similar profiles. All were attractive, athletic, married women in their early thirties. Obviously these women had not used their real names on the profiles and instead used clever pseudonyms. With the help of a few of his diagnostic tools, Alex found that two of the women had been naïve enough to use their online handle in more than one social-networking site. Following the cyber trail, he was able to forge links to their actual identities. The third woman proved more of a challenge.

  Browsing to the Hook Up site, he saw Lilith’s smiling image staring up at him. Was the woman behind Lilith’s pretty face a murderer? Maybe. Maybe not. It was hard to say without knowing more about her. But in his experience, it was typically the people who had something to hide that took such elaborate measures to cover their tracks. In this case, he wondered what dark little secrets Lilith might be hiding.

  Downloading a copy of the picture to his desktop, he launched a beta version of a face-recognition utility he was working on. He would do a search through a number of other common social-networking sites to see if he could find a match. If she hadn’t used her email handle elsewhere, maybe he could find her face.

  Pushing back from his computer screen, Alex grabbed his coat. It was well past six o’clock, and his stomach reminded him that he had somewhere else to be.

  46

  “Can I get you a beer?” Emma asked Alex as he relaxed back into an overstuffed leather chair in the living room. Mike placed a protective hand on Emma’s shoulder.

  “You sit. I’ll get it,” he said, not waiting for Alex’s answer. “He looks like he could use one.” His brother’s smile was lopsided as he left the room. Mike was right. All the way over to their house, Alex was thinking about the name Lilith. There was something familiar about it, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

  “You’d think I was handicapped and not just pregnant.” Emma sighed with a touch of exasperation, sinking obediently into the cushions of the couch. Her hand strayed to her gently rounding belly. She was just beginning to show, and from the glow of her skin, Alex guessed that she was feeling fine, having just passed into her second trimester.

  “Enjoy it while it lasts.” Alex’s smile was affectionate. “Mike is not known for his chivalrous behavior. I suggest you milk it for what it’s worth.”

  Entering the room with his long, rolling stride, Mike handed the bottle to Alex and took a seat next to Emma, his arm thrown along the back of the couch. Absently Alex started to pick at the Fat Tire label, tearing little strips of it away from the chilled bottle. Glancing up, he caught Emma’s eyes on him, and he stopped fidgeting and took a sip.

  “What are you working on these days?” Mike’s tone sounded casual, but the calculated look that Alex saw in his eyes told another story.

  “You know, exciting stuff like making tool updates and giving online safety course lectures at community events. Lewis has me chained to my desk for a while, until my arm ... “His voice trailed off, and with a twitch of his head he indicated his arm, still cradled in its sling.

  “Does it hurt?” Emma asked, the skin around her lively blue eyes crinkling as she grimaced.

  “I’m fine.”

  “At least you got the bastard. I’ll bet Tom Watson is sleeping better now, knowing the guy who killed his daughter is behind bars.” He cast a glance toward Emma. “I don’t know what I’d do if something like that happened to our kid.”

  Emma patted Mike’s knee absently, her eyes still appraising Alex. Part of being a reporter was having good instincts, and Alex had no doubt that right now, Emma was sensing his preoccupation.

  “So, how is baby watch?” Alex asked, making an effort to push Luka’s case aside for a few hours. He would go back to the office after dinner to see what else he could dig up on Lilith. Right now he would focus on Emma.

  “Good. The baby started to kick.” Her smile was incandescent, joy shining in her eyes.

  “That must be exciting.”

  “What about you and Jill? Any talk of babies yet?”

  If Mike saw him flinch, he gave no indication. Just the mention of Jill’s name was reminder enough of the argument they’d had about this very topic only a few months ago. She had made her feelings abundantly clear, while seeing Abby with her daughter had only sharpened his desire for kids of his own.

  “Some talk. With Jill’s new promotion, she’s in San Jose now more than ever, so the timing isn’t right.”

  “Might not want to wait too long, I hear potency tends to drop as you age.” Mike’s jibe was accompanied with a sly smile, and Alex chuckled.

  “Well, if you’re any indication, it seems like I have a few good years left in me.”

  “That’s enough out of you.” Emma’s elbow dug into her husband’s ribs. “I’m sure Alex is going to hear enough of that from your mother.”

  “Hopefully, having one grandchild will be enough to satisfy her familial instincts in the short term.” Alex paused, sipping from his bottle. “With any luck, the kid will take after his mom and not have your ugly mug.”

  Mike’s chuckle died away. After a beat of silence, Alex glanced up.

  “Hey, Emma, mind if I run something by you? Strictly off the record, of course.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Does the name Lilith mean anything to you?”

  “Lilith Fair? Sure, it’s the name of an all-girl rock-and-roll tour. Sarah McLachlan was the headliner.”

  “Huh,” Alex remarked, staring at his beer bottle. Maybe that’s why he knew the name. Maybe the tour had made a stop in Seattle. Maybe Lilith was a music fan whose real name was Sarah.

  “There is another famous Lilith, though.”

  “Feminists unite,” Mike said, raising his bottle in jest. The remark earned him another jab in the ribs from Emma. After shooting him a disapproving look, she continued.

  “There are those who speculate that Lilith was Adam’s first wife, before Eve. Modern feminists view her as an icon for her bold struggle for independence from her mate. In most mythological references, she represents chaos and seduction.”

  Emma’s words sent a jolt of recognition through Alex, one that made the very hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He fought to control the expression on his face while his mind transported him back to the University of Washington, and the network-security class he had taken with Jill. The domain name she had used for her network was Lilith. Over coffee, she’d explained that Lilith was a biblical and mythological figure, greatly misunderstood.

  It had to be a coincidence.

  Emma glanced at the clock on the mantel and stood t
o her feet.

  “The chicken should be ready.”

  “I’ll help,” Mike said, also rising.

  “No. You stay and keep Alex company. I’m perfectly capable of handling dinner.”

  Emma rolled her eyes at Alex, who reclined back into the plush leather chair as she trailed out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen.

  “So what’s bugging you?”

  The directness of the question shouldn’t have surprised Alex. For the second time that night, he stifled a flinch as he gripped the beer bottle.

  “What makes you think there’s something bothering me?”

  “You’ve got that tense look on your face. It’s the same one you used to get right before a math test.”

  Alex cracked a smile.

  “Yeah, well, we won’t talk about you and English Literature.”

  “Just because I thought that Jane Eyre was a steaming pile of shit does not mean that English Lit stressed me out.”

  “Right. Whatever.” After a theatric roll of Alex’s eyes, Mike laughed, a sound that was close to a chortle. As the laughter died, his face grew serious again.

  “Is it Jill?”

  Alex was careful to keep his expression neutral as he let the question hang in the air. As much as he loved his brother, Mike was the last person he would talk to about Jill. The first thing he planned to do when he returned to the office would be to check the dates of the San Francisco murders against Jill’s travel schedule. With any luck, that would rule out all possible involvement between her and this case. What kind of freaky coincidence was the Lilith connection anyway? It seemed far-fetched. So why was it still bothering him?

  “Jill’s fine.”

  “She’s spending a lot of time on the road lately.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s part of her job.” Alex tried not to sound defensive, and failed. Mike did little to disguise his attitude toward Jill, and Alex tried to avoid any situation that would endanger it from dipping lower.

  “Are you sure that’s it?”

  On the surface, Mike’s question sounded innocuous, but Alex knew there was nothing casual about the insinuation. Frankly, he was surprised that Mike had the balls to lay it out there. Blunt. Feeling anger prickle at the back of his neck, he met Mike’s stare head-on.